


Couch Crashing

by Pickledpumpkinpoppers (Stormrace)



Category: DCU, Justice League - All Media Types, The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Berry Allen - Freeform, Female Flash, Gen, Genderbent Flash, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 03:36:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17759039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormrace/pseuds/Pickledpumpkinpoppers
Summary: Clark is somewhat used to people pounding on his door in the early hours of the morning, mostly just Lois demanding he follow up on a lead with her, but it isn't anything like that this time.





	Couch Crashing

Frantic knocking on his door at two in the morning was not something Clark was used to. Loud thumping and shouts of “Smallville”, yes, but nothing like the quick, tumultuous pounding that wasn’t letting up, even for a second. He stumbled as he got out of bed, then almost forgot to put on his glasses before he headed for the door. Experience had taught him to look through the door before he alerted whomever was on the other side that he was there, and it took a long moment comprehend that this young, dishevelled blonde was standing on his doorstep.

“Flash?” he quietly questioned, he could hear her heart racing, fast even for her.

“I-” she stumbled over the few words she managed to get out, her hand nervously rubbing over a dark patch on her jacket, “I’m sorry! I didn’t- I need- I…”

“Is that blood?” she looked down as he grabbed her arm and pulled her hand away from rubbing the patch on her arm. She looked confused and shocked in seeing her palm covered in slick red, “What happened?”

She looked up at him with the widest, most pained eyes he had seen in a long time, and took a step back from him, “I don’t- I shouldn’t have come here! I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“Come in.”

She hesitated. Clark gently tightened his grip on her arm and almost dragged her inside his apartment, though she wasn’t fighting him at all. With the state she was in, he didn’t need to know what was going on to know that he didn’t want her to go off by herself right now.

“Can I take a look at that?” he gestured to her bleeding arm. She silently nodded and moved to take off her jacket. She barely moved an inch, and she froze, a wave of agony flooding her face. He patiently waited for her to get through the pain she was feeling, not wanting to make any kind of move Flash had the potential of not liking. She struggled for a several minutes, trying to start getting the jacket off, before she turned to him with tears starting to slide down her face.

“Could you help me?” she whispered. He was as gentle as he could be, but he soon realized that the only way he was going to get the jacket off without causing her extreme pain was if he cut it off.

“It’s just a jacket,” she told him when he produced a pair of scissors.

There was intense bruising all over her bare shoulders and it mixed with many rope burns and still bleeding gashes on her arms. He could see welts traveling down past the lines of her tank top. A quick scan with his different kinds of sight showed that while her injuries were likely painful, they were superficial and would heal before morning. Even the badly sprained ankle. She would be all right, but it was still bad right now.

“What happened?” he made her sit down on his couch, pulling out his small medical kit and silently thanking Bruce for suggesting keeping one around.

“Tripwire,” she hissed as Clark started applying disinfectant to the open wounds, “Trickster felt alienated from the Rogues, so he tried to kill me to win them over again.”

“Did he get away?”

“No. He's not exactly the brightest lamp on the block, so he tied me up and decided to wait until he could show the Rogues. He’s on his way to Iron Heights right now.”

She didn't seem too interested in talking about it, so Clark didn't press further. He finished treating the open wounds and offered coffee, feeling the need for it himself. She accepted, but was asleep by the time he made it back to the couch with the hot beverages. He didn't mind at all, because he liked Flash, he knew she would do the same for him, and he had a feeling that this was connected to her late fiancé somehow. He draped a blanket over her and settled in to finish an article he should have been working on anyways.

She woke up around six, just as the sun started to filter through the surrounding skyscrapers, and took a moment to look confused. Then she seemed to remember what she was doing here and sat up.

“How are you feeling?”

“A lot better, I guess,” she offered an embarrassed grin, and he couldn't help but give a small smile back, because he knew just how long it had been since she had smiled so freely for anything. Not that he had seen her enough to know how much she did or did not smile these days.

“Coffee?” he offered again.

“Sure.”

“So,” his curiosity couldn't be contained until after she finished the cup he gave her, “about last night.”

“I’m sorry,” she looked down into her mug, “I just… Wally is staying with me this week. It's the first time since…” since Ira West was murdered, “She's always been sensitive to me getting hurt, and it's still so soon... She wouldn't handle it well and I can't… I’m sorry, you really don't want to hear all that. I really shouldn't have bothered you. I'm sorry! I-“

“Berry, it's okay. I understand and I really don't mind,” after months of the Flash limiting her excursions outside of Central City to only end of the world scenarios and refusing to interact further than offering solutions and taking orders, it was a relief to see she still felt that coming to her friends was still an option. Everyone had been worried for her, trying to reach out, and were nearly to the point of being willing to kidnap her for a week of grief counseling, so the news that she had spent half the night on Clark's couch would alleviate some of the tension.

“I really shouldn't have. Did you even sleep last night? I really shouldn't have bothered you.”

“It's not a bother,” he stressed the point.

“Thank you,” Berry’s eyes flicked to the clock, “Wally will be up in a few minutes; I should go.”

“Want a ride?”

“Nah, a short sprint will do me good.”

“Well, don't make yourself a stranger. We should get lunch some time soon.”

“Yeah, sure,” Berry smiled again, flicking the chamber on her ring to release her suit, “Maybe after Wally goes back to her parents’ place. Give me a call. Thanks again, Clark, I'll see you around.”

Clark moved to the window and watched the red streak of his friend disappear in the waking city. Berry had Wally visiting for longer than a day trip, she had come to a friend for help, she legitimately smiled at him, and she made tentative plans. It was a couple of baby steps on the long road of acceptance and recovery, but that didn't stop him from spending the rest of his day grinning like an idiot.

END


End file.
